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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432127">Through a Mirror, Broken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/feckyeswriting'>feckyeswriting (firelord65)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Discovery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to ???, F/M, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Uneasy Allies, Work In Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:09:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24432127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/feckyeswriting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"We would have helped you get home if you had asked. That's who Starfleet is. That's who I am. That's why I won't kill you now."</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The emperor doesn't kill Lorca. Not right away. Not while she still needs him as leverage to reinforce her claim to the throne. Desperate, he asks Michael to help save him. After all, she said that's who she was. What she does. Shouldn't she help him now?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Burnham/Gabriel Lorca | Mirror Gabriel Lorca</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Through a Mirror, Broken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That's just the natural order of things. The have-nots want what the haves possess. On and on up the chain. The second wants the first's chair. It's only human nature,” he spat.</p><p>Michael scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. Her patience was far and beyond used up, but Georgiou had not yet tired of playing with her challenger. “You couldn't just be satisfied with being the hand of the emperor,” Georgiou said. It wasn't scolding. Her lip, still bleeding from the strike Landry had inflicted, quirked in what Michael could only classify as bemusement. </p><p>“I was more than just your hand,” the would-be usurper, Lorca, insisted. “Sometimes your mouth, your tongue, your coc-”</p><p>The emperor’s sword struck his jaw squarely, pommel first. Michael herself nearly jumped at the sound of bone yielding to metal. “Take notes, daughter,” the emperor sighed. “There is such a thing as too much ambition.”</p><p>The ship rocked under their feet once more. Michael steadied herself as another aftershock rattled through the <em> Charon </em> . The motion had been what upset Lorca’s final blow, turning his upper hand into swift defeat. The mycelial core underneath their feet oozed a fetid greed color as it shuddered and churned. It was easily the brightest thing in the galaxy, the only thing that could really <em> shine </em> in the dank depths of this universe. And it was corrupted. Wasted. Damaged by Discovery’s hasty jaunt forward. </p><p>There was no exact timing when it came to the sheer scale of space. Michael had signaled for them to jump. It had changed everything for their crew. <em> Discovery </em> had punched through the core into the network. But the barrier, the core’s protective shield, which had been dropped hadn’t extended to the throne room. Without a clear signal, the transporter beams had fouled. Michael had been left behind along with her captain. </p><p>Georgiou uttered further disgust at Lorca’s unconscious body before summoning someone to get her goddamn ship back in order. </p>
<hr/><p>Michael wrestled with the options. She was alone now. What she wouldn't give to have Saru's council, to run strategy by Ash. Her stomach twisted further into knots. <em> Ash. </em> He was well and truly gone now. Would he recover from whatever Voq was - a parasite in his thoughts? The ugly truth behind every nervous smile? Michael had to hope for his sake that he could find peace. But that wasn’t what she needed to focus on now.</p><p>Left to her own devices in her alternate self’s abandoned chambers, Michael drew in on herself. Surely she could council her own thoughts. Surely this wouldn’t be the end of her story with Ash. After so many changes, so much <em> loss </em> , she wouldn’t be bested by an inter-dimensional roadblock. The <em> Charon </em> was adrift currently but it would be bolstered by the Empire’s strength once again. So long as no one saw Georgiou’s momentary loss as a crack in her defenses. The ugly green of the damaged mycelial core seeped even through Michael’s tinted viewports. Soon there would be vultures looking to size up the wounds on Georgiou’s claim. </p><p>It wouldn’t benefit Michael for the emperor to lose her seat. But then again, it might not benefit Michael for Georgiou to remain there for terribly long. She, Michael, had tried to destroy everything just as her alternate self had. She’d even promised to aid Lorca, however briefly that claim had been made. Distrust ran thicker than blood in the Terran empire. Michael had no doubt that her time here was short. </p><p>No, the endgoal would have to be departure. Back to her universe ultimately but between then and now any safe harbor would do. </p>
<hr/><p>“You know what it is to be ambitious, Michael,” Gabriel Lorca hissed. Once a captain, once a hair's breadth from the throne of an entire galaxy, now Lorca stood hobbled and shaking. The dregs of the agonizers hadn't left his system. Neurons fired in over-taxed synapses and continued the booth's work for time on end. </p><p>“To have aspirations, yes. Ambition is another beast all together.” Michael grew up among Vulcans. Wordplay was her specialty. </p><p>“You <em> wanted </em>that captain's chair.” His voice dragged on the word like sandpaper, coarse grit. </p><p>“When it was my time for it, yes. Not before.”</p><p>He laughed. “You're a terrible liar to everyone but yourself. I bet you believe that, don't you? Commander Burnham, patient and true. Tell me, where did that patience go when you had Phillipa's throat in your hand and her command at your fingertips?” </p><p>Lorca was restrained, tied hand to waist even beyond the force fields. Yet he continued to tower over her despite the confinements. Michael could not find it in her stomach to square her shoulders yet again against her past. She remained silent as Lorca swung his head in a mockery of quiet conspiracy. </p><p>“Did you want to take it all? The ship, the crew's undying loyalty, everything?”</p><p>“I'm no Terran,” Michael spat in reply. Her tongue felt thick and unyielding in her mouth. The insistence had taken too much effort to summon. He was poking too close at her darkest, quietest thoughts. Things certainly would have been easier had she the resources at Georgiou’s disposal. For now, though, Michael was content to be alive. </p><p>“No. No, you aren't,” Lorca purred. He was so close to the field Michael could see its sparking, orange tendrils twist to lap at Lorca's face. The fiery light smoldered and died in his dark eyes. No wonder he’d been burned by the prime universe’s light. “You're something colder.” </p><p>Michael refused to let his words hang there, talons open to dig in and remain in her psyche. "It's not going to matter," she insisted. "These lies. These jabs at me. You're in the brig. Outside of your own control. Destined to die. Stop wasting your breath." </p><p>His face twisted and darkened further. The force field dimmed as he retreated, only briefly, into the cell. "Destiny isn't done with me. I wasn't made to rot in a cell or an agonizer booth," Lorca snapped. </p><p>He didn't understand. No, no that wasn't it. Lorca wasn't that stupid. Here now, he refused to accept his fate: to be slaughtered in one final chess move by Georgiou. Gabriel Lorca, the would-be emperor, struck down by the woman he thought himself better than. Michael would have pitied him, if not for the simple fact that he was Terran. He above anyone else should have known what lay in the infinite potentials of his future. He should have expected this. </p><p>Michael itched to retreat. She had no more place here. Lorca had made his bed. Now he got to lie in it. </p><p>"Destiny has more plans for both of us. It can't end now. Not like this," Lorca whispered. His eyes, bloodshot and now hotly smoldering, transfixed on Michael. "Don't you see?" He continued, moving to press as close to the barrier as possible. </p><p>"All I see is a madman in a cage," Michael lied. He wasn't a madman. She wasn't that stupid, either. </p><p>"It's not a cage," Lorca hissed. "You're standing right fucking there. You said I could have asked you for help. What about now?” Energy arcs and coursed into his cheek and knuckles as he lurched directly into the barrier. He flinched - it must have reignited the singed pain from the agonizers - but did not yield.</p><p>Michael flinched with him, wishing she could stop from returning to meet his gaze. “What <em> about </em> now?” she said. No. He wouldn’t ask now. </p><p>“Help me,” Gabriel hissed. His cheek was blistering now, reddening as the cells seared and burst. “You’re the only one left now. Help. Me.”</p>
<hr/><p>She shouldn’t have been here. The emperor had been lenient with her, what with the rest of her crew leaving her stranded. But Michael should have known better than to test the woman’s limits.</p><p>Michael snorted at her own tangled, delusional thoughts. This wasn’t just pushing Georgiou’s limits. Pushing the boundaries of where to go didn’t involve her two fists deep into the emperor’s wiring as she crouched in an abandoned jefferies tube. This was no idle sidestep into the restricted section of the library or nip into the kitchen after hours. </p><p>She was working on subsection D’s power structure, the one that powered the cluster of rooms half a deck above her. The brig’s power structures. Hot lights burned at the nape of her neck. All the heavy gold about her shoulders only served to magnify the impact, scalding her. Yet she toiled further. </p><p>There had been no mistaking that Lorca was trying to manipulate her. Even locked up he was ever a mastermind, moving each pawn with reckless arrogance. Michael paused to wipe yet another bead of sweat from the bridge of her nose. Surely this was what he wanted. To be sprung from his capture, freed to once again assail the Emperor for her seat and cast Michael aside. And yet she was still doing it. Because she refused to see herself as just a pawn. There was something in his eyes each time they spoke even now. </p><p>Perhaps that only meant he saw her as a rook. More powerful, more cunning than a pawn. But still utterly disposable. </p><p>Michael gritted her teeth and tore open the last strip of wires. Rather simplistic, and yet it allowed her to splice in the faulty control circuit she had rigged. With a remote trigger, she would be able to crash the grid for a few seconds, maybe a minute if she was lucky. </p><p>There was the question of course if this was worth trying. Whether Lorca was the better devil to have on her shoulder rather than the bloodthirsty Georgiou. Michael worked to seal up her alterations as best she could with the strips of electrical tape before tucking the whole wreck behind some conduits. Within ten minutes she was out, back in her mirror counterpart’s quarters and wondering just when her luck would run dry. </p>
<hr/><p>His words tumbled in her mind’s ear. All those supportive, almost wistful remarks back on <em> Discovery </em>. His proud plea just one week ago in the brig. Lorca’s desires were clear - he wanted to live and prosper at that. But should he? And would he leave Michael alive when all was said and done? She didn’t have any answers. </p><p>Michael clenched her signal generator in her pocket. Its design was nearly identical to that of a detonator. How fitting. She had been summoned from her chambers once more to Georgiou’s side. This time however their conversation was brief.</p><p>“I’ve decided what to do with the rabid cur.” Georgiou spoke of Lorca as though he was completely beneath her. As though he hadn’t been moments from destroying her entire reign in the swing of a sword. The sheer arrogance of Terrans seemed a default trait. </p><p>“I’m sure you have,” Michael said, offering nothing of her own thoughts. The emperor had turned her eye to Michael for one lazy blink. Then she returned to examining the curve of the nail she was filing. </p><p>There was a tiny hitch to her voice as her tone shifted. “I should hope that you don’t share my other daughter’s faulty attachment to him,” Georgiou said. Michael suppressed a shiver. Such cruel irony that the universe had given her Philipa's affection to think of her as a daughter only for <em> this </em> to be the Philipa who said so. “He’s to be put down. It’s time. My people have finished culling the rest of his loyalists from the fleet. He’s the only one left.”</p><p>Michael nodded and was permitted to depart. She felt the emperor’s eye on her still, particularly when the guards escorting her from Georgiou’s audience chamber melted away to return to their duties. Michael ran her thumbnail along the space between the remote's cap and body. A failsafe to keep from accidentally setting it off. </p><p>She would have to be smart about this. They would only have one move, one option to slip out from Georgiou’s thumb. Michael paused just for a moment. When had she started to think about she and Lorca as a unit? Although it was only fitting based on the plan. They would have to band together to make it any further than an hour or two outside the emperor’s uneasy trust. </p><p>Waiting was agony, particularly when she had nothing else to occupy her time. Michael didn’t dare crack into the computer system to find a shuttle for an escape plan. Her mental map of the corridors would have to suffice, along with whatever knowledge Lorca surely had of the <em> Charon </em>. Her idle browsing of the ship’s databanks focused solely on her quest to understand her counterpart’s history. Michael pulled every file authored by the other Burnham onto her PADD. The device could be carried out on her person. It would probably be the only thing she could take other than the dagger at her hip. </p><p>Finally her chronometer ticked past 0210 - the slightly arbitrary time she had selected to make her move. She’d stopped her reading three hours ago to give the appearance of having gone to sleep, meditating unsuccessfully to fill the rest of the time. But now. Now she could move.  </p><p>It was unexpectedly easy. Not the plan - that could and more than likely would go wrong at any second - but the mental block Michael expected had neatly stepped aside as soon as she unfolded her legs. </p><p>She slipped out the door of her chambers and moved purposefully. There had to be a balance between subterfuge and distance traveled. As she approached the entrance to the brig, Michael found her pulse racing. Swallowing, she put it out of her mind. Of course she was nervous. But now wasn't the time to get cold feet.</p><p>Setting her jaw, Michael stalked intently into the brig. Rows upon rows of agonizer booths stretched ahead. The room’s lights were dimmed for the evening. No guards patrolled. Surely though there were still cameras and detection systems primed and ready to notify Georgiou’s crew of any interference. </p><p>Michael hefted the signal generator in her hand. <em> To use it now or once she was by Lorca? </em> Too soon and he might flee alone. Too late and their escape might be cut off. </p><p>“I wanted to see you before she killed you,” Michael called out. It was getting easier by the day to shrug on the guise of her counterpart. Even if both she and Lorca knew it was just for the cameras. It would be enough. </p><p>And it would hopefully wake him, if he had managed to fall asleep in his cell. Those weren’t in the long rows down the center aisle. She had to twist right and follow the wall into one of the many crevasses of the ship’s internal structure to find him there. Yet another inconvenience when Michael had been wiring her circuit. But she had found the divot, found the cluster of wiring that controlled the second wave of force fields that would drop should anyone manage to escape the cells themselves. </p><p>He was back at the face of the cell, his palms burning as he leaned into the force field’s currents. “Cutting it a little short, don’t you think?” Lorca panted. “Half a day later and you would be speaking to a corpse.”</p><p>Michael sized him up. His brown jacket was torn in multiple places. Every fiber of his being was trembling from the residual agonizer pulses. And yet still he stood. </p><p>“Couldn’t leave the Captain behind,” Michael replied, more honestly than she intended. The embers of his eyes smoldered back to life. His fingertips curled, smoking softly against the force field.</p><p>“What do you have planned, Burhnam?” he wondered, awe singing through his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re actually here to grant my wish. And I know that you were only humoring me by listening to my thoughts on destiny. I still think I’m right, though. The proof’s right here. You’re here now.” He was rambling. The agonizers had gotten to him, perhaps. Or the looming execution. </p><p>Michael crossed her arms, concealing the remote with her body. Maybe he had seen it already. Maybe he hadn’t. “I’m not here to help you,” she said carefully. </p><p>His head twitched. The motion didn’t appear to be entirely intentional. “Explain?” he prodded.</p><p>“I wanted that to be very clear to you. You asked if I would help should you ask. I won’t. I’m not,” Michael insisted. </p><p>Lorca’s tongue darted over his lip only to be chased by his teeth as he continued to stare at Michael. “Then what? You aren’t here to gloat. It’s not your nature. That was hers. Not yours,” he murmured. </p><p>They were running out of time. Michael flipped the cap open, exposing the trigger. Lorca’s body shifted as he tried to make out what she was doing. “You are going to help me,” Michael said. “If that happens to benefit you, then so be it. Either way, I’m your only way out of that cell.”</p><p>He laughed. It was a wheezing, breathless action but still a laugh all the same. “Georgiou will kill you.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Michael admitted. “Or maybe she’ll keep quiet. She’s got bigger things to worry about than chasing after her missing ‘daughter.’ It won’t benefit her standing - such as it is now - to admit that she once again lost Captains Lorca and Burnham.” Michael held her breath, watched as Lorca considered her once more. The laughter had stopped. </p><p>Skepticism sat in the squint of his eyes. But pragmatism would win the day. He didn’t have anyone else. Even if Georgiou had lied and she hadn’t tracked down every one of his devotees, Lorca only had hours left to live if he didn’t take this option. </p><p>He licked his lips again. “I told you before. Destiny - she’s not done with us yet,” Lorca breathed. Lurching once more to the front of the cell he captured Michael’s eyes with his. “I’ll help you. And you’ll help me. Like you said you would.”</p><p>Michael pressed the trigger. Everything went dark.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So I'm trying to figure out this fic! I'm posting this starter chapter to see 1) if there's any interest and 2) to see how I like the look and feel of it. It's been sitting in my drafts in various pieces and segments for a while now. I think that I like it and want to continue. But maybe as more of a pet project. I'd love to get any thoughts -- too samey with the usual "oh no stuck in the Mirror!Verse Michael/Lorca"? Or different enough? I'm not usually so needy!! I think it's because I'm still not used to Trek as a fandom. Too used to the "other" Star ____. </p><p>But yeah! If you enjoyed this lmk in the comments or kudos or <a href="https://feckyeslife.dreamwidth.org/12049.html">smoke signals to my house</a>!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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